


You Look Pretty Hot In Plaid

by motherbearof3



Series: The Detective & The Defense Attorney [1]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 14:53:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13706766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motherbearof3/pseuds/motherbearof3
Summary: Title is a prompt request I got on tumblr from roseinutopia.





	You Look Pretty Hot In Plaid

**Author's Note:**

> Her request was to write it for Barson or Calhola. I went with Calhola because I got an inspiration. Hope you enjoy it!

“Black tie? Baby, you didn’t say the wedding was black tie.” Fin dropped the invitation, with its raised printing on thick creamy stationery back onto the granite countertop in Rita Calhoun’s luxurious kitchen. It was to her goddaughter’s wedding that weekend.

“Stop whining, Odafin,” she said from her perch on a stool on the other side where she was tapping away at her laptop.

“But I don’t own a tux,” he countered.

“I ordered you a rental when we got the invitation,” she replied without looking up. “I’ll pick it up tomorrow.”

He sighed, knowing any additional argument with the lawyer was futile, and turned away to open the refrigerator for a beer.

The next evening he saw the garment bag hanging on his side of Rita’s spacious walk in closet, but didn’t bother opening it. He knew it would fit perfectly because in addition to having a brilliant mind for law, his girlfriend also had a mind for fashion. But when he unzipped it the following day his exclamation had Giorgio the cat running from the bedroom.

“What the fuck, Rita!”

Rita strolled out of the bathroom where she was applying makeup and Fin’s anger lessened a little at the sight of her in a satiny bathrobe and her hair piled in curls on top of her head. She raised her eyebrow at him standing there in boxers and an undershirt.

“Problem?”

“They gave you the wrong tux.” He held the garment bag aloft and gave it a little shake for emphasis. A small smile curved her painted lips.

“No, darling. That’s the right one,” Rita assured him.

“But there’s no pants!”

“That would be because it’s a kilt. I was lucky. They were able to get one in the Calhoun tartan.”  
  
“The what?”

“Tartan. The plaid pattern and colors of the Calhoun family from our ancestral days in Scotland.” She crossed the room and placed a hand on his chest.

“Relax. A lot of the men will be wearing them. And you know, tradition dictates you wear nothing under it. Provides easy access.” Rita ran her manicured hand down to the front of his boxers and leaned closer to whisper in his ear. “Besides, you look pretty hot in plaid.”


End file.
